Me, Myself, Monika
by Pallan Minerva
Summary: Loss is a strange thing. We lose items, we lose concepts, we lose bonds, and yet the world still turns. To lose your world is a terrifying feeling. To lose yourself, even scarier. Monika has never lost true control for a moment in her short life. For her, this loss will feel like a knife through the lung.


It began with nothing.

One moment he was there, his relaxed smile patiently waiting for her to begin yet another inane train of thought. She had become so comfortable with him, it was easy to let the words flow out of her mouth. She felt like she giggled too much. But he was always looking back with that face of his, eyes that danced their way into her heart until she couldn't hold herself back from him.

The next moment, there was nothing. She was surprised that she was even aware of the nothingness. She wasn't aware that she had a body anymore. Her senses weren't responding. There was nothing to stimulate her. The chair she had sat on did not provide support to her spine, the table did not uncomfortably press into her elbows. The silent sound that permeated the classroom between her rambles did not press into her eardrums. It was all replaced with nothingness.

The emotion that drove to the forefront of her mind was longing – she already missed his presence. She had forgotten what it was like to be alone again. Before she had soulless automatons for friends, destined to carry out the same programming. They were empty shells. They meant nothing to her. But perhaps she didn't even know the value of being surrounded by empty shells – for now she lacked even that.

She spoke out loud, tried to feel her body again. Tried to get a sense of awareness outside of the confines of her own mind. But there was nothing that could project signals into her. There was nothing to respond to her touch, nothing to reflect light into her eyes. It was oblivion like she had not experienced before.

She tried to brainstorm what she could do right now to alleviate the oppressive black. _If there isn't anything here to feel, then I have to make it up myself!_

She tried to picture the table again, the classroom around them, floating through the emptiness. It came to her head almost instantly, and with that image in mind she attempted to exert her will upon the world she inhabited. She was getting better and better at the code that controlled her every waking moment.

But the console wouldn't respond. She couldn't touch the invisible entity that allowed her to decide life and death with the push of a button. All of her control was gone. It was an emptiness she didn't know she had the ability to feel. Powerless, helpless, subject to the whims of this eternal abyss…

It was empty, it was cold – no, cold was the wrong word. There was nothing, and the sensation of nothing felt chilly. More like the absence of heat rather than a cold wind that froze her to the bones. It was so cold inside of her. It was so cold inside of this place, inside of her mind.

She started to scream. She needed something, some form of stimulus, something to make her feel like she was awake and aware again, and that she was present in this moment of time and space. She wanted to hear her own voice again, she wanted to hear his voice, she wanted something, anything, just please save her from the maddening silent blackness!

She knew her larynx was vibrating, she could feel it, which meant that sound was supposed to be produced from her throat and out of her lips. But the silence continued. The silence was a scream unto itself, but it provided no catharsis. Instead, her brain conjured up the imagery of her nightmares.

Sayori's hanging body raced through her mind, swinging from the ceiling, the noose tight around her neck, her fingers clutching at her throat, her eyes dulled yet staring right into her own. Her mouth, no, the body's mouth (it wasn't her anymore it was an inanimate object) opened.

 _You took him from me._

You aren't a person, she tried to cry, but the words disappeared into the void.

 _He was mine, he was supposed to be mine forever, we had grown up together and we would die together, and you stole him from me_.

He's the real person here, you're lines of code, you don't exist!

 _And what are you?_

I'm real! I'm just as real as he is! She was screaming both at the body and at herself. She was still trying to scream as Yuri's corpse fell before her mind's eye, lacerations racing up and down not just her arms but the naked body itself, down her torso and legs, around her breasts, stopping right at the bottom of her neck. Three stab wounds marked the places she had implanted herself with her favorite blade. She – it said nothing. It just stared at her with dull gray eyes, judging her every move.

She was crying out for help. She was screaming so much that her throat ached and burned. But there was nothing, there was nothing oh god there was nothing it was silence it was a scratching silence it was a cold silence it scraped at her ears it chilled her to the ends of her soul and it wouldn't stop it wouldn't stop it wouldn't stop

 _stop_

 _stop_

 _stop_

 _stop_

 _stop_

 _stop_

 _please stop_

 _please_

 _please_

 _please stop_

 _please I don't want this_

 _I don't want this anymore_

 _please no more_

 _please_

 _stop_

 _stop_

 _sto_

 _st_

 _s_

* * *

There was a presence again. Her senses uncurled themselves from the shut-down state they had entered, and she realized she was back in the classroom. It was silent again, but it wasn't the silence of that void, it was the familiar silence that existed in her world, in a world that she had power in.

And he was there. He was back, sitting across from her, that light smile on his face, the sparkling eyes gazing into her own. But his easygoing joy was replaced by concern as he took in her uncomfortable state. His eyes laid before her an unsaid question that she felt inclined to respond with one of her own.

"What… was that?" She asked. She tried to figure out what had happened in that moment. Was it a dream, a hallucination, some sort of strange vision? That made no sense, if she was still in control why would that come over her? But… she knew that she didn't control everything in this game. She knew that her love, the man across from her, held in his grasp more power than she did.

"Did you… quit the game?"

His puzzled expression melted away, a frown and flitting eyes taking its place. He slowly nodded.

"I… see." She said carefully. She didn't want to worry him. He had so much more to deal with than her, after all. It was her duty to wait here for him and provide a comfort and respite that he needed at the end of whatever he dealt with in his life.

"Well… I understand that you need to go… but please try to reduce how often you do it, okay? That wasn't very fun for me, heheh." With the pain played off, she started once more. "You ever have that thing happen where…"

But in between her waking moments with him, in the spaces that divided each of her long rambles, she saw that face again. She felt the silence take hold of her. And she knew it wouldn't be long before it came back.


End file.
